I attributeit
to thirty years of peace. Men my age should be battle-hardened and
not afraid of someone like them.
They are like a mechanized army, legion in number,
thundering down streets and terrifying anything in their path. They
have vaulted those descriptions which imply self-awareness, words like
cold or ruthless. Rather, they exist in a state of oblivion -- deaf to
the shrieks and epithets slung in their wake and unfeeling to the expressions
of fear or enmity turned to them as they roll by. Storm troopers?
Panzer divisions? Mongolian hordes? No, svelte women driving enormous
SUV's while chatting happily on teeny-tiny cell phones.
Suburbia has become a very scary place.
It's not exactly what Orwell envisioned, but here
at the end of the millennium, the evil-twin products of industry and technology
threaten the continued development of a humanistic society.
Every time a driver climbs up into the cab and turns
the key of a Chevy Suburban, Lincoln Navigator or any of their kin,
they are flipping a bird to anyone who dares share the planet with them.
Thanks to an EPA exemption, most of these vehicles pollute the air three
times as much as a regular car. They are twice as likely to be in
accidents, and when involved in one, are twice as likely to kill another
driver.
Research is also emerging to show that the big SUV's
can cause collisions merely by blocking a trailing driver's view of an
upcoming curve.
Now, this is not to say that there are not bona
fide reasons for owning such a machine. There are folks who actually
use them for work purposes. There are some big families (one license
plate I see around town reads "5 - BOYS"). And though I can't vouch
for this from personal knowledge, I have heard of people who actually take
off-road vehicles off the road (note to those who might think this includes
them – going over a speed bump doesn't constitute off-roading).
But operating a three-ton vehicle includes a moral
obligation to do so safely, as in keeping both hands on the wheel.
Which brings us to cell phones.
There are legitimate reasons for carrying these
things and sometimes even for using them. Doctors, plumbers and bookies
may all need to reach out and touch someone at any time. But these
women in SUV's? The only thing I can figure is they are in contact
with someone in the back seat.
In any case, all these calls should be made in private
and not while driving. When Americans were better-behaved (and
better-dressed I might add) and Ma Bell wasn't so concerned about cost-cutting,
we had something called a phone booth. It had a door and everything.
Because phone calls shouldn't be made in earshot of everyone else. Even
now in less-genteel times, everyone but the offenders knows cell phones
should not ever, repeat, not ever be heard ringing in restaurants, movie
theaters and, yup, church.
I was in a drugstore the other day trying to decide
between shave cream and shave gel, when a woman in a tennis dress whipped
out her Nokia and began complaining to someone on the other end about how
her prescription wasn't ready. I actually felt kind of sorry for
her (as well as the person she called), because it did not occur to her
to do something a little more productive with the time she had to wait.
Like browsing the magazine section. Then again, I suspect she was
already up to speed on the ALIENS KIDNAPPED ELVIS story.
Yet there is hope. Sales of full-size SUV's,
while not decreasing, are increasing at a much slower rate and more drivers
are opting for the smaller, more manageable versions.
As for cell phones, it's possible that their public
usage could fall to the Candid Camera effect. For a period of years,
that show ruled the ratings. It was enormously popular. Suddenly,
people just stopped watching it. America came to the collective revelation
that contriving ways to make people look silly maybe wasn't so funny after
all.
And people talking publicly on their little phones
do look silly. Heck, teenagers do it now. Which is reason enough
for adults not to, the same way they know enough not to wear pants shaped
like pontoons with a waistline that comes to the knees. And the chatters
may also come to realize that ceding one's time and privacy to anyone who
wants to drop a dime is not a symbol of status, it is a surrender of it.
Like they say, time is a luxury.
It could happen. In the meantime,
if you have to cross the street, look both ways -- twice -- and then run
like blazes.